


Favourite Colour

by bluelionsbish



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Artists, Character Death, ChenSoo, M/M, Mentioned Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Mentioned Kim Jongdae | Chen, Romance, Unrequited Love, except not really, lots of stupid imagery, old drabble rising from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21480814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluelionsbish/pseuds/bluelionsbish
Summary: Kyungsoo wonders briefly how the world can be possibly be sobright.Full of life and full of wonder, streaked with colours that can only be described as heavenly, he wonders—why is his life so grey?
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Kim Jongdae | Chen
Kudos: 7





	Favourite Colour

**Author's Note:**

> this is ridiculously old. like 2012 old? idek whenever they first debuted lmao. i posted it on my original wattpad account (exotickpop), deleted the account, then posted it on my new wattpad account (also bluelionsbish !!!), years later--if you're wondering why this may look familiar. i've never minded the imagery used in it, so i figured i'd post it again sksksks  
rest in peace my ot12 heart.

☆

Kyungsoo wonders briefly how the world can be possibly be so _bright._  
Full of life and full of wonder, streaked with colours that can only be described as heavenly, he wonders—why is _his_ life so grey? So dark? Compared to the lit paradise so many others seemed to live in...

-why?

And as he lays on the ground, grass tickling the palms of his hands, he reminisces. He wishes that he could've seen his friend's smile, the one that could illuminate the entire world around him, just for a moment, one last time.

"Jongdae," he whispers, breath coming out in a small wisp of frigid air, "why?"

That's the only question he can ask.  
  


But it's not the why most people would think of; it's not the _why am I dying_, it's a _why aren't you here with me? _And honestly, Kyungsoo doesn't know which question is worse—or which answer he hates more.  
  
  


☆

Jongdae, Kyungsoo recalls, had always been the vibrant one. He was the boy filled with a million different hues. Jongdae had been the one to hold his brush against Kyungsoo's temple, and paint his mind with pools of colours too ethereal.  
  


So delicate, those colours, and like all things in life, the masterpiece that Jongdae had once created in Kyungsoo...faded.  
  
  


They were torn apart—not really by any fault of their own, merely the universe's ill-timing—and Kyungsoo's rose tinted glasses fell away.

Jongdae, forever wrapped up in a puzzle Kyungsoo never really could solve, was the only person in existence to ever pull apart his shell, piece by piece.

And he swears that no one has _ever_ looked so beautiful, shrouded in the light they used to crack him open with.  
  
  


Kyungsoo was always led to believe it to be such a shame. For Jongdae to have known someone like Kyungsoo—it was a _shame_. His darkness, Jongdae's brightness; they didn't go well together.

Jongdae was everything Kyungsoo wasn't.  
  
  


☆

Kyungsoo breathes in, and then breathes out. The pain in his chest isn't as unbearable as it had been moments before. But Kyungsoo supposes that's what comes with death—the numbness, the distance he puts between his crumbling consciousness and the grasp he still has on the world around him.

Perhaps he should be sad; weeping because he's only twenty_, _and yet life has decided to abandon him.

Perhaps he should be angry; screaming because he's alone, and no one will hear him even if he wants them to.  
  
  


But instead, he's silent.  
  
  


At first he feels nothing, nothing but the metal that's burning a hole in the middle of his stomach. And at first, he feels cold; his blood exudes only a whisper of warmth before it trails its way to the hand that sits limply at his right side.

But then he feels regret.

Regret for the last ten years he's spent hiding from the light. Hiding from the world and its people and the way he could've immersed himself in all those beautiful colours Jongdae had shown him so long ago.

But ten years is a long time, and he can't remember their hues no matter how hard he tries to recall.  
  
  


☆

Kyungsoo reaches up, hand bloodied and shaking, as he attempts to catch the stars with his palm. They seem to slip through his fingertips.

_No fault of our own_, he thinks, _isn't that right, Jongdae?_

He can see the boy's grin dotted in the heavens, so he smiles back.  
  


_Ten years since you've left me_, Kyungsoo points out. He watches the stars glimmer; they move and swirl above him, trying to tell him of their guilt.

_You shouldn't be sorry_, Kyungsoo chides in return, hand on his chest.  
Jongdae shouldn't apologize for leaving; he shouldn't hold any remorse for something he had no control over.

Kyungsoo's heart ceases for a moment, and Jongdae's face comes into view.  
  


Kyungsoo frowns.  
  


But suddenly, there's a light tap on the furrow between his brows, and he smiles.

His eyes close. They burn with unshed tears.  
  


_Jongdae, _Kyungsoo thinks, _you know how much that annoys me_.  
In reality, the touch does nothing but sooth him. He remembers the days where his friend would place his thumb on his forehead, working away the wrinkles Kyungsoo put there subconsciously.

Always frowning, Jongdae would say, and suddenly his laughter is all that Kyungsoo hears.  
He misses the sound.  
  
  


☆

_I miss you_, he offers, after a moment, fixated on a star that seems to shine brighter than all the others. Jongdae had once told him that when people pass, they would find their way to the sky, so that their loved ones could look at the stars and find peace knowing they were there. An actual heaven, Jongdae never failed to claim.  
  


Kyungsoo opens his eyes again.

He can't help but think that Jongdae is the one who burns brightest.  
  


_Do you think of me? _he whispers in his mind. The sky seems to glow purple.

Then Kyungsoo's vision grows dark, and he chokes on blood that seems to bubble up out of nowhere. His head lolls to the side, skin pale and clammy as he shivers in the cold night air.

_I think of you all the time, you know_.

His ears are ringing, and he's lost feeling in most of his body. He can't move to gaze up at the sky anymore, and a fleeting, bitter sob breaks free from his mouth.  
  


_Jongdae, do you know how much I love you?_  
  


White, blinding pain suddenly crashes into him, and he can barely think as he wheezes for air. He grimaces, trying to get his body to respond to his fervent wishes to _move_, even though it can't.  
  


_I've loved you for a very long time._  
  


Jongdae had once told him that he had a big heart. Kyungsoo always disagreed. The only one that had ever been inside Kyungsoo's heart was _him_. It was only big enough for one person--Jongdae, and only Jongdae.

He wonders if he ever knew.

He probably did.  
  
  


_You could always tell what was on my mind._  
  
  


☆

Kyungsoo supposes he should be happy, because he's finally going to be able to join Jongdae—to see things the way he does, from up above, where everything must almost always look beautiful.

_Look for the beauty in all things_, Kyungsoo suddenly remembers. That was something Jongdae said often, too.

But...was death beautiful? Was there a _reason_ behind it? Was there a reason Kyungsoo had been shot? Or had it been mindless—simply another splatter of black on an already muddied canvas?  
  


Kyungsoo thinks, regretfully, that Jongdae may have been too focused on everything that was light to think about anything that was dark. And he realizes now that the world is mixture of both—it's only that some people have a tendency to bend towards one or the other.

Light or dark, black or white.

And Kyungsoo thinks, that if this is the case, he and Jongdae went well together.  
  


But the world isn't just black, and the world isn't just white. The world is green, and red, and yellow and blue. It's blooming with oranges and purples and shades of pink.

It's filled with grey.

Grey, and its disastrous habit of being neither one colour nor the other, but whatever people wanted it to be. Good or bad, it didn't make a difference.

Kyungsoo thinks that Jongdae maybe just missed a few hues along the way. Maybe his spectrum was too big—too vibrant, for the grey to fit in.

Perhaps..._Kyungsoo _had been Jongdae's grey all along.  
  


_I'll see you soon_, Kyungsoo breathes, and the wind ruffles his hair.  
  


But then the stars begin to dim, and the familiar touch disappears. Kyungsoo panics.

_Jongdae, where are you going?_

He gets no answer.

_Are you going to leave me again?_

He's too exhausted to cry, at the thought of being left alone once more, but it doesn't lessen the twist of his heart.  
  


_I just really miss you._  
  


A pause, and then, "I know. I love you, Kyungsoo."  
  
  


It's nice to hear his voice again.

But he can't keep his eyes open any longer.

_Will I ever get to see you?_  
  
  


"You will, but the time isn't right."

Kyungsoo coughs, confusion etched on his features.

_It's not?_

"No," he can hear Jongdae's sweet laugh, "and Kyungsoo?"

The boy grunts as he painstakingly turns his head towards the sky, eyes still closed. A single shooting star blazes a path above him, but he can't see it.

_Yeah?_  
  


"You are, by far, my most favourite colour."


End file.
